Wrong Place At The Wrong Time
by Blue Seidr
Summary: When Gibbs's team is assigned a case dealing with stolen weapons from a Navy Battleship, it leads them to New York City, where the case takes a turn for the weird. Leonardo is out on his evening patrol when he stumbles upon a meeting involving the Foot and a dead body. Leo sticks around to sleuth, and suddenly, he's in the wrong place at the wrong time with a federal agent.


**I happen to be a huge fan of NCIS and TMNT. I really want to see the two teams meet, but no one has done the crossover. So here is a test chapter. If I get good reviews, I'll consider continuing this. Enjoy!**

Gibbs stared at the dead body lying so haphazardly on the floor, like a doll tossed aside by a little girl. Except most dolls did not have a long, deep, bleeding cut on their throats, where a sharp blade had nearly cut the head off.

Suddenly, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up, his skin prickling with the familiar feeling of being watched. Without moving his head, Gibbs scanned the NYC warehouse, searching for anything to indicate someone was in the warehouse. There was nothing at a first glance to see, aside from the body in a pool of blood. But things are not always as they appear.

Gibbs's instincts said that someone was in the warehouse with him. Someone living. And they were watching him right now.

In a blur, Gibbs drew his gun and whirled around, aiming the gun at the shadows behind him. These were deep shadows, shadows that concealed and utterly engulfed things. Gibbs heard the smallest intake of air, so faint it could have been a breeze, or just imagined. But it wasn't. Gibbs was certain now. There was someone in the shadows of the crime scene, which made them at best a witness, and at worst a suspect, or even the killer.

"Freeze! Federal agent! Come out with your hands up!" Gibbs shouted.

There was no response as the seconds dragged on. Gibbs shifted, getting into a better position to fire if need be. He felt horribly exposed, though he would deny it to his dying day if asked. There was an unknown person who Gibbs could not see, who could be armed, while Gibbs had no cover to speak of.

"I won't ask again." Gibbs let a hint of aggressiveness leak into his voice. Whoever this was needed to know he meant business.

"I can't." A voice finally said, and it was a relief to finally have something tangible about this person. It was a young male, and his voice was strained. He was attempting to sound calm, but a note of desperation had made its way out. He was worried. About simply coming into the light? Suspicious.

"Why not?" Gibbs asked, not lowering his gun.

"You - you'd shoot me." The male stuttered, sounding very, very young. Too young.

Gibbs frowned. "How old are you?"

A pause. "Fifteen, sir. Sixteen in a few months."

Fifteen?!

"What are you doing here, son? This is a crime scene."

"I didn't know! How was I supposed to? There's no tape, no police, nothing!" The male - the boy - said defensively.

Gibbs nodded slightly. "True. So what are you doing in a warehouse in the middle of the night?"

Another pause, this one dragging out longer than the first. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you, sir."

"Don't call me sir." Gibbs said automatically. Sir was his father.

"Then what should I call you?" The voice asked.

"Tell you what. Come out of the shadows and I'll escort you home, and tell you who I am. I need to ask you a few questions anyway."

This was the longest pause yet. The boy was silent for over a minute. Gibbs's arms began to ache from holding his gun up so long. He could have lowered it, but the male could have been lying about his age. Never hurts to be careful.

"Lower the gun, and I'll come out." The boy finally said.

"Why don't you come out, then I'll lower my gun?" Gibbs rebutted.

"Lower the gun first." The boy said firmly.

"Why? Afraid I'll shoot you?" Gibbs joked, hoping to get the boy to talk more.

"Yes." The boy said seriously. "You have a gun pointed at me, and, believe it or not, I'd rather not get shot by a federal agent and end up in some lab for scientific research."

Scientific research? That was an odd thing for someone to say faces with a loaded gun.

"I won't shoot you. Not unless you try to kill me." Gibbs waited a beat, then added, "You aren't going to try to kill me, are you?"

"No, I'm not. Unless you try to shoot me. Then all bets are off." The boy said, and Gibbs found himself repressing a smirk. The kid had spunk, he'd give him that.

"How about this? I holster my gun, and you come out with your hands in clear view. Then we talk. Deal?"

It only took a second for the boy to agree. "Deal."

Gibbs slowly holstered his gun, making sure whoever was in the shadows had a clear view of the pocketed gun.

He heard a deep breath, then deliberate shuffling. Loud shuffling. The boy was making sure Gibbs could hear him. A vague form appeared in the shadows, a bulky figure. Then the figure stepped into the light, and Gibbs sucked in a sharp breath.

He had never seen anything like what had stepped out of the shadows.

It - it looked like - like a turtle. Except it - _he -_ stood over 5 feet tall and had a humanoid shape to him. He had green skin, three fingers and toes, and a shell. He wore pads on his elbows and knees, martial artist tape around his feet, hands, and forearms. He wore a belt around his shell and had two straps thrown over his shoulder, holding two sword, and wore a blue mask around his eyes. His large hands are held up in the universal gesture of peace, and his sapphire eyes are wide and pleading. Pleading for Gibbs not to shoot him.

It was close. Gibbs's instinctive reaction was to reach for his gun, but he suppressed long enough to remember his promise to the turtle. He wasn't going to him, and he wouldn't hurt him. That was the deal. Gibbs took several breaths.

"Who are you?" _What are you?_ The unspoken question drifted between them.

"My name is Leonardo. I go by Leo. And - well - I'm a mutant turtle. A teenage mutant ninja turtle."

*Cue NCIS theme song*

**So review please, and have a Happy Halloween! **

**-Blue**


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